


I ran (so far away)

by MorganBartonRomanoff



Series: Natasha Romanov Bingo 2020 [8]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Clint Barton Made a Different Call, Dark, Gen, Past Brainwashing, Pre-Relationship, Red Room, Red Room (Marvel), Shapeshifter!Natasha Romanov, What Happened in Budapest (Marvel), but with a twist!, werewolf!Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24840004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganBartonRomanoff/pseuds/MorganBartonRomanoff
Summary: AU. In a world of shapeshifters, an archer is sent to hunt a spy. His orders are clear. He's never been good at following orders.He catches up with her in Budapest.He makes a different call.Part Eight of my Natasha Romanov Bingo; Square filled - Shapeshifters AU
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Series: Natasha Romanov Bingo 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653973
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Natasha Bingo





	I ran (so far away)

**Author's Note:**

> This was such an interesting concept and I might revisit it later on. The possibilities!
> 
> Title from the Hidden Citizens soundtrack.
> 
> Written for the Natasha Romanov Bingo 2020 by [natasharomanovbingo](https://natasharomanovbingo.tumblr.com).

He’d been on her trail for over two weeks. Every couple of days, she’d try to throw him off, she’d change her appearance, try to mask herself. It never worked. He never lost track of her.

The Black Widow was notorious. She was a ghost. The perfect assassin, the perfect spy. And his job was to take her down.

He wasn’t overly happy with it.

Clint Barton was one of the few remaining wolfs in the world, yet he resorted to taking lives only when completely necessary. And he doubted killing the Black Widow would turn out to be completely necessary. He hoped it wouldn’t be.

For the past two weeks, he’d grown so familiar with her scent he could pick her out of the Times Square crowd just by it alone. He’d gotten used to waking up with her lingering in his nostrils, as if she was just a reach away.

A hunter after his prey.

The prey’s file was thick with murder charges and red with spilled blood. He’d read all about her past, about the experiments they’d run on her. She was exceptional. Unique. Dehumanised. They’d treated her as an animal, as an object, as just another science experiment. And then they’d groomed her to be a monster.

No other shifter could do what she could. The shapeshifting genes were similar to the hair colour genes in that everyone was born with them. There was no changing them. And while contacts were a neat trick when it came to eyes, there were no contacts for one’s other form. Or, not usually.

The Black Widow, a ridiculous name for a chameleon such as her, Clint mused, was capable not only to shift into numerous animals, any she desired, possibly. No, her superiors had found a way to allow her to take any human form she wished as well. He couldn’t even imagine how… how agonising that must have been. He couldn’t imagine how someone could be so sadistic ass to do this to a living being.

Shifting was a painful process. Bones snapped in completely different positions, grew and elongated much faster than a child’s. He could still remember his first time. He’d though he was dying. He’d felt the hairs poking out of his skin, felt his tailbone yank on his spine, his skull deform. When he’d come back to his senses, Barney had told him he’d taken half an hour to shift. Half an hour of excruciating agony and screaming in pain. It was no surprise his throat was raw with hoarseness. And then half an hour spent in the reverse process after several minutes of growling at his own brother.

They’d told him that he would get used to it, that it would hurt less every time he shifted. They’d all lied.

A person’s other self emerged during puberty. And after that, it needed to be let out at least once a month. For the past fifteen years, each and every month, Clint had gone through the change.

As time went on, he learned to control it, to remain conscious during his animal state. He learned to transfer some of his lupine senses into his main form. He’d become an invaluable asset. And in return, Phil and his organisation had lessened the pain, given him a home, a family.

He couldn’t imagine what the poor girl must be feeling – girl, not woman. Still so young, yet so corrupted by the disgusting minds and desires of sick scientists.

He caught up with her in Budapest.

* * *

He caught up with her in Budapest.

She’d known from the moment she’d left the Amsterdam hotel that they would send the Wolf after her. He always found her, always brought her back to be punished for her disobedience.

After she’d completed her job in Lebanon, she was supposed to make her way to Prague and wait for further orders. She’d killed a family of six. They’d made her kill a family of six. Three children had lost their lives because of her – she’d stolen them.

There were glitches in her programming. No matter how many times they wiped her clean, no matter how many times she promised to serve them. She suspected it had to do with her specific skillset. Her brain was so scrambled from their experiments that they could no longer affect it for more than several months at a time. What an inconvenience she’d turned out to be.

It had all come back rushing, all the evil she’d been forced into. It had brought her to her knees emptying her stomach. She hadn’t thought twice about it, hadn’t stopped at the pain, at the doubt or the fear. It had taken her mere minutes to change the shape and colour of her eyes, the structure of her hair and bones. No pain could ever compare to what she’d felt when she’d remembered.

And then she’d ran. She changed her body every two days, always cautious, always careful, looking over her shoulder, ears perked up. Paranoia had long ago become an inseparable part of her life.

She arrived in Budapest hours before daybreak. Exhausted. She was exhausted. She’d been weaving left and right just to shake the Wolf off her trail. He kept coming, she could feel him. She could smell his scent like he could hers, but there was something else too, an ominousness she couldn’t explain.

Let him come.

He wouldn’t get her. She would make sure of it.

She dropped her stolen traits in a dirty bathroom at the train station. Then she made her way to the Danube, down to the rocky shore.

Her chest heaved as she took a deep breath of cold winter air. The city was still asleep. The sun rays were barely peeking above rooftops and trees. Perfect serenity.

Stones crunched behind her, but Natalia didn’t tense. She’d heard him coming from miles away. But there was something different about him this time, something off. Perhaps they’d finally broken him beyond repair.

His voice froze her quicker than the wind toying with her hair.

“Why did you stop?” That wasn’t her Wolf. They’d found someone else to send after her this time. She took in another deep breath.

She didn’t know this one’s weaknesses, didn’t know if he would hesitate to kill her. But did it matter if she walked or not, as long as she didn’t go back?

“I’m tired of running,” she admitted. She expected him to be pleased with her answer. After all, a wolf’s hunt was only enjoyable when his prey reached its limit and he could pounce, aiming for the fatal blow.

He took slow steps her way until they were shoulder to shoulder. She wouldn’t let him knock her out. Life or death – there could be no in between.

His arms hung loosely at his sides, shoulders relaxed, feet unbalanced. She could easily bring him down with one move. But he knew as well as she did that she wouldn’t escape him anyway.

“What are you going to do?” she asked. The wolf shrugged.

“I was tasked to kill you,” he started. She didn’t let him finish.

“Do it.”

If they’d sent out the order to kill her, she’d take the relief she could get. Maybe they would consider her a failed experiment and move on to something else. Maybe no one else would have to suffer like she had. Or maybe they’d revivetheir research with renewed vigour.

He looked at her, the side of her face exposed to his piercing gaze, then slowly shook his head.

“I don’t think I will.”

The Widow clenched her teeth, withholding a sob. Was she really surprised they’d sent someone so cruel and remorseless after her? He probably wanted to watch them take her apart, piece by piece, when he delivered her back like a prised bounty.

She swallowed and raised her chin.

“I will not go back.” The wolf nodded. 

“I hope not.” He sounded as if he was American. Perhaps they’d taken to stealing test subjects from other countries too now. She turned to face him, all wide shoulders and strong arms, sharp lines fit for a predator, short light hair… and stormy blue eyes that looked at her softly, compassionately. He didn’t appear to be more than ten ears older than her. Perhaps even less.

She took a step back. He followed her with his gaze but remained where he was. Her voice was raspy when she spoke.

“You’re not…” he shook his head. “Then who are you?”

If someone else wanted her dead… How many someone else’s wanted her dead?

“Show me your real face,” he said instead. The Widow blinked.

“How will you know it’s my real face?”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Why?” He couldn’t really be such a fool, could he? He smiled at her, a crooked grin that brightened his face.

“Why not?” Why wouldn’t he trust the assassin he’d been dispatch to kill? Yes, indeed, why wouldn’t he? She knew what he was doing when he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Make himself less threatening, let the prey think they’re safe. But Natalia had wolf in her too.

She waved her fingers in the direction of her head.

“You’re looking at it.” His eyes traveled down from the top of her head, curls bright like fire, to her eyes, green clashing with blue, to the fullness of her lips.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he repeated. “And I’m not going to let them take you back.”

Her eyes narrowed, mouth curved. “What a hero,” she sneered. The wolf chuckled.

“Nah, no hero.” He stretched out a palm, wide, rough, calloused, expecting. “Clint Barton.”

She didn’t particularly care what he called himself. He didn’t retract his hand back to the warmth of his pocket. It hung in the air between them. 

“Tell me, Nat.” She didn’t flinch at the diminutive. “When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?”

She tilted her head. “Three minutes ago, when I decided not to kill you.”

His laugh was unexpected. It coursed through her like living lightning. 

“That was a good one. But you know it’s not what I meant. When was the last time you had a say in who got to live and who didn’t?” She let her silence speak for her. “I’m here to help you change that.”

“So, what? You’re offering me revenge? It would never work out.”

“I’m offering you redemption. I’m offering you free will.”

“And let me guess, it’s in America, with the employer who sent you to get rid of me?” She crossed her arms and watched him stumble across his words. “Why should I trust you?”

His face grew serious once more, eyes boring into her intensely.

“You can hear my heartbeat. You are perfectly well trained to notice any tell. I’m not that good of a liar. Besides, what other choice do you have? It’s either me and mine, or those you would pick death over.”

He had a point there. His hand  was  still  reaching for hers,  taunting her.

S he took it.

**Author's Note:**

> For now, this will remain a one-shot.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed this as much as I did while writing this! For more Natasha content, you can also check out my other works! All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated 💜
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [ohwriteiforgot](https://ohwriteiforgot.tumblr.com)


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